Lady Cecelia Ch. 02 Pt. 02

On the hill of Cecelia's rising chest they lay like twin worlds of female excess: fascinatingly large, a warm opulence huge in Lydia's small hands, areola's wide and raised with nipples displaying a capacity for surprising length and thickness. After caressing the pliant globes of them gently, familiarizing herself with their heft and weight, she smoothed upwards to their peaks plying bumpy dark flesh into support for Cecelia's excessive coned nipples. These she captured and rolled in her fingertips stiffened and erect. Lydia pulled them gently upwards and away to elongate Cecelia's breastflesh then rolled her wrists.

Cecelia groaned. There was a rhythm to her fingers teasing caress about the bead of her clitoris. She neither slowed nor quickened its pace, relishing in Lydia's attention to her breasts. Having her arms tight against her body to allow her hands to do their work below served to capture and intensify the presentation of her overflowing bosum to Lydia's warm hands. The mountains of them were offered to the canopy above. Cecelia's head tilted back. Her dark ravenlike hair spilled across the covers as she rocked her head slowly back and forth. Her hips imperceptably rose and fell to meet her own fingers while the insistent caress administered to her breasts flooded her body with pleasure connecting it to the sensation of fingers demanding a helplessly fuck-hungry cunt open for them. It did. It swallowed each thrust. It tightened on them. It ached for them.

Cecelia's legs splayed wide. Her hips rose to each entry involuntarily. The heavy pliant pearl of her stiffened clitoris absorbed a thrashing of fingertips about its entire length and breadth. Each inhale came, was held, then released with a moan.

Lydia had been requested. Her Lady had required it. There had been no hesitation from her for everything between them was shared. Their inseparable lives demanded an attention to the needs of the other and she bent to her task with relish. Even more so: Lydia, with this deed, had become an indispensable confidant.

She also found herself discovering pleasure in the feminine luxury of offered willing breasts and what her manipulation of them could do, growing fonder of the experience with each passing moment. The sighs coming from Cecelia's impassioned lips filled her with inexplicable warmth. Aside and leaning over Cecelia this way had caused ribbons to escape their hold on her hair. It began to spill from its ties.

Being oldest in her family there was a time she had watched in fascination as her dearest mother, on the event of the most recent infant's hunger, had offered a breast to the baby for feeding in her presence. She had watched the serenity blossom on her mother's face sensing a oneness with the world. Once witnessed, Lydia found herself drawn to each feeding and its presented breast from which a fattened nipple was urged towards moving lips. There came the soft comforting voice from her mother as the baby sucked. When time came to offer the other, Lydia watched the swollen nipple dripping milk feeling both envy and a certain jealousy each time. Those were breasts swollen and pink. Yet even milk laden and at their most demonstrative size, those breasts were diminutive when compared to the ones in her hands.

From above Lydia allowed her undone chestnut hair to feather across the work she was doing. She drew it to and fro across hands breasts and nipples so that Cecelia might experience its softness until, engrossed by the effort, she found herself presented with breast tip only inches from her lips. She stilled. Hands filled with bosom she squeezed. They rose. Nipple touched her lips. Without hesitation Lydia presented kisses to its sides, its tip, its base and then the other. Its warm stiffness caressed her lips. Cecelia poised in anticipation. Lydia pressed her lips to areola to begin tonguing its bumpy slope and with her lips parted, took the nipple between them to tongue its thickness within. Her Lady groaned. The cone of it slipped squirming between tongue and the roof of her mouth erect. She sucked laving it with her saliva then drew at its softness walking her lips to the cone of areola. Opening wide, she collected as much of breast flesh as she could take in and began sucking.

Cecelia's breath caught in her throat. She began a furious session of fingers sliding within her vagina. Slender arms directed their own hands between soft thighs into splayed pussy. The ringless fingers untouched by labor ruled the innermost depths of her womanhood. The wet sounds of entry, the slurp of mouth on breast, the scent of flesh covered with wetness and the unmistakable aroma of womanhood in its most drenching heat dripping with juices filled the air around them. Cecelia's groans were guttural and deep. The bedchamber faintly echoed with its liquid slippery sounds. It assaulted her senses. Lydia, an innocent of but twenty years, found herself lost in a paradise of flesh. Her fine hair draped in a sweep across her Lady's chest curling against chin, neck and covering Cecelia's shoulders with its length.

These chambers had become a haven of femininity. A woman's bed with all its whimsical touches of color and softness, sheets of satin, pillows of down and covers of burgundy encompassed smooth bodies and tenderness of flesh. Soft thighs opened, sculptured collarbones pressed forward, the silken tangle of cast aside bedclothes, the willful wanton heart of women possessed with desire these had become the unbecoming universe of two secretive friends.

Lydia's femininity began to weep like a sweet wound. Desire had blossomed impossibly within her yet being so far behind she knew not what else to do and moved to the other capturing Cecelia's waiting breast. With this Lydia indulged herself tonguing heavily against its offered flesh. The pulse of her Lady's ministrations held constant. Each breath was an appeal, a moan a gasp for release with chin tilting ever farther towards headboard. Her hips rose. Her belly tightened and Lydia widened her lips over warm helpless breast flesh to draw it into her mouth taking it to Cecelia's very core, nipple bearing against the back of her mouth.

"Oh my god, "Cecelia blurted out, "oh my god oh my god." Her hips came off the bed held high for her thrusting hand, the fat bead of her clitoris scissored madly by the other.

Lydia stared into them. Authority had charged her actions with sudden activity. Lydia grasped both hard nippled breasts in her hands. Leaning on and supported by torso she began to quickly lick and suck each one after the other. Cecelia's gaze melted.

Her nipples felt tongue in rapid sucession. She gasped. Hips froze in mid air in the depths of a thrust and held. Fingertips laced a clitoris frantically staring at Lydia for as long as she could until her head fell back into a tangle of raven hair. She trembled and felt orgasm course through her in a beautiful wave.

"oh......fuck...oh fuck...." she blurted out; her breath came in great short gasps.

Lydia felt it and knew. Her Lady shuddered again. In a voice unrecognizable, she heard Cecelia choke out a cry: first one, then another at each overwhelming clutch of vagina against the fingers held inside her. At first powerful and all-consuming spasms that seized her Lady from head to toe, they subsided to gentle seizures that pulsed her hips.

Somewhere within; fingers had slipped from their womb, driven out by their contractions and slipped from the thick lace of her labia. Both hands pressed there for protection; pressed there in the chance one final hint of pleasure lurked beneath the soaked curls of her sweetly tortured womanhood: to find her touch ready.

Lydia had long relaxed her grasp now that stimulation had abandoned one of them. She lay across her Lady's torso. An overwhelming sense of shyness caused her to disentangle herself and she slid her hands slowly and gently from the breasts she'd so forcefully handled. They were bright pink in the firelight. The astounding nipples returned flattened to their reserved demeanor. The slow pace of Cecelia's breathing allowed Lydia to rise and sit aside her Lady's prone body.

"pull these covers from beneath me," Cecelia whispered," Lie next to me that I might tell you my heart before the night takes us both to bed, dear sweet girl."

Lydia wanted to weep. Holding her tears of frustration at bay she arranged covers across Cecelia and lay herself above them next to her satiated protector and listened to Cecelia as she spoke softly.

"At the start...I only thought of William," she began, "but soon I am the devil's plaything. My loss and sorrow for my Knight disappears. What I do here has no language of love....only base desire. My want of release rules me! All has changed. What was once a respite from the ache in my heart for him has become an excuse. I find want only my own satisfaction. All of this is of my own choosing! Dear Lydia, whatever am I going to do? My desire is almost an obsession!"

They spoke for many minutes with no answer or conclusion until Lydia sensed her Lady was drifting into sleep.

"Rescue your William, my Lady." Lydia said gently," All will be well once you are in his arms and safe in England."